


set out on a dream that i couldn't understand

by singsongsung



Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Dani finds A+ snow for Jamie, F/F, a winter vacation, missing moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27264961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singsongsung/pseuds/singsongsung
Summary: The cabin is small but sturdy, built with the trunks of trees. Dani does not say it looks like something out of a storybook - she’s had that thought before, staring up an English manor, a small hand in hers,perfectly splendid.She says, instead, “We’re here,” which is unnecessary thing to say, since Jamie can see that just as well as she can, but Dani smiles and says it anyway, because it matters.A vacation.
Relationships: Dani Clayton/Jamie
Comments: 7
Kudos: 146





	set out on a dream that i couldn't understand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sonlali](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonlali/gifts).



> Title from the same song as the epigraph! There are a couple _Hill House_ Easter eggs in here, one more obvious than the other. 
> 
> Thank you for reading.

_everything is alright  
if only for the night  
i forgot what it feels like_  
\- the glorious sons, "everything is alright"

The cabin is small but sturdy, built with the trunks of trees. Dani does not say it looks like something out of a storybook - she’s had that thought before, staring up an English manor, a small hand in hers, _perfectly splendid_. She says, instead, “We’re here,” which is an unnecessary thing to say, since Jamie can see that just as well as she can, but Dani smiles and says it anyway, because it matters.

They’re here. She’s here. It’s real.

Jamie squints into the sun that reflects off the snow. Her hand reaches over the gearshift and curls around Dani’s thigh.

On the ground, the snow is the sort that Dani knows Jamie wanted to see: fresh, crisp, unsullied by the dirt of city streets and passing cars. She laughs when her feet sink into it, the breathless, blissful sound with notes that Dani always wants to pluck from the air and hold against her heart - that laugh of Jamie’s that is a privilege to hear, kept carefully guarded, shared with so few. She can remember watching Jamie swallow it down, remember her own eyes tracking the subtle movement in Jamie’s throat. She can remember the first time she heard it, how it felt like a painless punch to her stomach, an explosion of stars sparked in her body.

Jamie gathers up a handful of snow and inspects the flakes on her bare skin, like she’s scrutinizing the quality of soil. Dani watches, her own hands encased in mittens and stuffed into the pockets of her coat. The sun is already starting to sink in the sky, and in the fading light, curls poking out rebelliously beneath her hat, Jamie looks like a painting.

Dani pulls her hands out of her pockets and reaches for Jamie. (They’re here. It’s real.) The snow in Jamie’s hand melts into the yarn of Dani’s mitten, seeps through strands to reach the creases on her palm, fate and heart and life.

She teaches Jamie how to pack a good snowball. They chase one another, laughing like children, and Dani has a fleeting thought, a passing hope, that somewhere else on this same continent, Flora and Miles are laughing the same way.

Jamie gets her right in the face. When Dani’s spluttering makes it clear that it’s her pride that’s taken the greatest blow, Jamie grins, unrepentant, and teases, “Oof, Poppins. You’re a bit of a mess.”

Dani gasps indignantly and rushes at her. Jamie barely braces herself, and they topple together. Their landing is a soft one, but still, Dani feels Jamie’s hand on her hair, prepared to protect her head, the same way her own fingers are splayed against Jamie’s hat. The snowflakes they’ve disturbed fly upward in a cloud and float down slowly around them, like confetti.

“You play dirty,” she says, one hand clutching the front of Jamie’s jacket fiercely.

Snow slips down the back of Dani’s coat, against her neck, against her spine, and she shivers - once, and then twice when Jamie kisses her, cold lips and damp hands and heat in her mouth that Dani presses closer to drink in.

“You know,” Jamie says as Dani chops carrots in the ancient kitchen. There’s a steaming cup of tea - two spoons of sugar, just how she likes it - at her elbow, made by the woman who is currently tracing her fingers over the log walls like she can still hear life humming in the wood. “When I was younger, I wanted to live in a treehouse. Up really high somewhere.” She tips her head back briefly. “Just me and the leaves, where no one could find me.”

Dani chops steadily. “Twigs in your hair.”

“Touch me and get poked,” Jamie says wryly, crossing the living space to lean against the small dining table, which rocks on its uneven legs.

“I wanted a house with lots of windows. More windows than anyone could need. Skylights.” Dani glances up, offers a half-smile. “And a turret. Somewhere I could go and sit and just - watch. Be… outside of everything, for a moment.”

Jamie looks around the cabin. “Not much space to be alone here.”

Dani rests her knife against the cutting board and picks up her cup of tea, cradling the warm mug in her hands. She meets Jamie’s eyes over its rim. “No,” she says, soft and peaceful. “Not much at all.”

After dinner they leave the kitchen a mess and cuddle up in front of the fireplace, wrapped up in the heavy quilt from the bed. Jamie is wearing one of Dani’s warmest sweaters, fuzzy and pink, and she keeps tugging at its cuffs like she can’t quite believe she agreed to put it on. Dani stills her fretful hands, twining their fingers together, and tucks her smile right into the crook of Jamie’s neck.

She feels Jamie’s cheek against her hair, the soft rumble of words through her body as Jamie asks, “Are you going to get around to taking this monstrosity off of me?”

Dani settles a lingering kiss against Jamie’s collarbone. “I just want you to be warm, baby.”

“There’re faster ways to go about that.”

Dani lifts her head and strokes her thumb along Jamie’s cheek. “Did you like the snow?” she asks, quietly.

Jamie gathers Dani’s hand in her own and presses a kiss right in the centre of her palm. “I love the snow,” she says, her voice warm and full of gravity.

“Good,” Dani whispers, and lifts Jamie’s chin with a single crooked knuckle, leaning in for a kiss.

It feels like they melt into each other, Jamie’s tongue skimming along Dani’s lower lip. The quilt drops from around their shoulders; Jamie’s hands steal under Dani’s shirt and she gasps at the feeling of Jamie’s cold fingers, hears herself says, “ _Please._ ”

“Anything,” Jamie murmurs into her mouth, a promise that Dani swallows down.

The fire crackles as Dani finds herself stretched out on the old, scratchy rug, Jamie’s body pressing deliciously into hers. She arches her back and Jamie’s fingers unclasp her bra and Jamie’s lips and teeth are making a mark on her neck, and Dani’s lashes flutter as she breathes a sigh, and they’re here and she’s here and it’s real, so it doesn’t matter, when her eyelids drop shut, what colour irises they’re hiding.

fin.


End file.
